


In Your Hands

by ephemerality



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:51:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4879285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemerality/pseuds/ephemerality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She says something, quietly, probably, “Good morning,” or more likely, “Stop staring, you creep,” but he can’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my lovely person and my favorite friend, [kokoromelody167](http://kokoromelody167.tumblr.com/html/). Love you.

He stares out the window at the sunrise, his fingers combing absently through her hair. She shifts against him in her sleep and he glances down at her. Even now, after all the time he’s known her, her beauty still takes his breath away. He brushes the bangs back from her face, smiling as she hums contentedly, unconsciously leaning into his touch. She looks younger asleep, more at peace. He hopes she’s having good dreams. 

 

All of this is like a dream to him. He never imagined he would actually get to be here, with her. It still doesn’t seem real. 

 

He traces the angles of her face, barely touching her smooth skin so as not to wake her. She murmurs his name and he feels that little tug at his heart, because even in her sleep she has this special way of saying his name that he can’t explain. Something about that way those lips curve around his name makes him feel at home, at peace. 

 

She stirs, slowly waking, big eyes cracking open. She blinks slowly for a moment, eyes adjusting to the light. Her face breaks into a smile when she sees him, his favorite of all her smiles. Better than the pretend one she gives him when she’s far from fine but doesn’t want him to worry, or the exasperated but affectionate one she gives him when he’s done something stupid, or the one she sends him from across the room that lights a fire in his chest and makes him drop everything and find a closet to hide in and spend some quality time with her. She never gives those smiles to anyone else. She saves them just for him, and he loves them all. But this one, by far, is the best of them all. 

 

Her golden hair catches the rays of the sun through the window, and her sleepy brown eyes wide and innocent, focus on him, filled with love and trust. She smiles, and he falls a little more in love. He touches her bottom lip with his thumb, trying to ignore the shiver as she kisses it. Her skin glows in the morning light, and god, he just wants to stare at her forever. She says something, quietly, probably, “Good morning,” or more likely, “Stop staring, you creep,” but he can’t. Something about the way the strap of her tank top slips off her shoulder catches his attention. She bites his thumb gently in an attempt to get it back. He drags his eyes away from her bare skin to look at her face. 

 

“What are you staring at?” she asks, so soft he can barely hear her. It’s something he’s noticed lately. When they’re alone, no guild, no Happy, she tends to be a lot quieter, nicer, almost. Not that he minds when she’s loud and angry, that’s a different kind of beautiful. But he likes this side of her, because it’s something he’s certain no one else has ever seen, or will ever see. It’s just his. She’s just his. 

 

She’s looking at him a little apprehensively, like she thinks he’ll say that she drools or has bed head or something, and he wants to laugh because even though she does sometimes, she’s still the most striking thing he’s ever seen. 

 

“You, he says, his voice a little hoarse from not using it all night, and her blush spreads down her neck to her chest, drawing his attention back to her perfect collarbones. 

 

“Why? Do I have something on my face?” she reaches up to fix it, but he grabs her hand and brings it to his lips, watching in satisfaction as her blush deepens to a darker red. He presses a chaste kiss to her palm, and she moves her hand to cup his head, pulling him down for a kiss that makes his head spin. She sits up, and somehow she’s straddling his lap and he doesn’t know how she got there, but he’s certainly not complaining. Her hands are winding through his hair and he forgets his name until she gasps it against his lips. 

 

There is a ringing in his ears, distant and quickly forgotten. She pulls back just enough to say, “Are you gonna get that?” 

 

Get what? he’s about to ask. Oh. The phone. Yeah, he really doesn’t feel like it. He must’ve said that last part out loud, because she laughs, and once again he is in awe of her. He stares at her, wide eyes and flushed cheeks and mussed hair and swollen lips. 

 

Can you feel my heart? he wants to say. It’s in your hands. 

 

But in the end he’s too afraid, so he just kisses her instead.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://obsessivemarrish.tumblr.com/html/), come say hi and give me prompts!


End file.
